The Lobotomist's Wife(51)

“I did, but more about that later. How many do you think?” Robert grinned like a schoolboy bursting with a secret. Ruth was more interested in the former patients than in getting a tally of the lobotomies Robert performed over the two weeks, but she knew he wouldn’t relent until she played along. “All right, so twelve days. And I know that with the transorbital you can go much more quickly so, six per day? Seventy-two?”

Robert stood and began tapping his foot.

“What?” Ruth was weary of the games. Had she overstated?

“Two hundred and twenty-eight! I transformed two hundred and twenty-eight patients from being the most difficult and taxing at their state hospitals, into the easiest. Some will even be able to leave altogether and no longer be a burden on the state!”

Ruth stood, mouth agape. “But how? That would mean . . .”

“Yes, I averaged nearly twenty people a day.” He beamed. “It wasn’t that consistent, of course. One day it was actually closer to thirty, some days more like fifteen, but I really do have this down to a science now.” He paced triumphantly. “The first day at each hospital was the slowest, because I had to train the staff. But that really only takes an hour or two, unless the doctor is very clumsy and ignorant about the brain. Not every psychiatrist is as well versed in neurological anatomy as I am. Still, the landmarks are fairly obvious even if you aren’t a neurosurgeon.

“I read the patient files the night before, so I was able to get right to work. And, since there were so many patients, I quickly adapted to work on multiple people simultaneously. It was brilliant, really. We would bring in six or eight at a time, and once they were all strapped in, I’d shock the first one and then begin, while the other doctors would shock the next one. We continued on down the line like this until everyone in the group was finished. Then a few minutes to recover from the grogginess before they were escorted out and the next group brought in.”

Ruth walked to the small kitchen and poured herself a glass of water before sitting down in Robert’s chair. She had a hard time making sense of this. She understood that the transorbital technique was fast; nevertheless, was it really possible to perform this many safely in such a short amount of time?

Robert lifted Ruth from the chair and placed his strong hands on her shoulders. “Ruthie, you do understand what an accomplishment this is, right? What we’ve done for the world?” She looked at him searchingly. “Our lobotomy has been liberated from the operating room and is radically altering the treatment of patients across the country. With fewer violent inmates, hospitals for the mentally ill can raise the standard of care for all.”

Ruth smiled and nodded. She was heartened by the idea of doing so much good, but the number still seemed disquieting.

“My love, I know that we haven’t been spending much time together lately with me on the road so much. We’re overdue for a night out. How about we clean up and head into the city?”

Numbly, Ruth nodded. It had been a long time since she and Robert had enjoyed a frivolous night out together, and maybe that was what they needed. Maybe if she could hear this all, in detail, it would seem as commonplace to her as to him and she’d feel like a team again. “Yes, Robert, that sounds lovely.” She leaned against him, her head on his shoulder, and looked out at the gray, choppy water. “Let’s go and have a proper celebration.”

And if it didn’t seem routine? Well, what then?





Chapter Twenty-Nine


Margaret sat quietly in the passenger seat. When she thought of doctors, in general, she thought of offices in skyscrapers in Manhattan or, perhaps, in a hospital. But here they were, driving through this tiny town only a few miles from their own. This was much more civilized than she had imagined. Frank slowed on a street adjacent to the water and began looking for the number.

“Are you sure this is right? These are mansions.”

“Apparently this doc’s office is on his property.” Frank put his hand over Margaret’s as he turned into the long, tree-lined drive. “I know you’re nervous. I am too. But some guys from my unit saw him at Emeraldine and said he was the best.”

Past the hibernating trees, Margaret stared at the sweeping snow-covered lawn, slowly sloping down to the gray water of the sound. The drive circled past a grand Tudor mansion the likes of which Margaret had never seen, and then on to a carriage house.

Frank turned off the car and they sat for a moment, taking in this unexpected setting.

She wasn’t sure how any man who lived here could possibly make her feel better about herself. Rather, she felt even smaller and more insignificant in the face of such opulence.

“Take a breath, Mags. This is going to help. It will be good.” Frank touched her cheek gently and smiled at her as Margaret’s eyes welled with tears. At least she was able to cry in front of him now; she didn’t have to hide it anymore.

Trying to look better than she felt, she had dressed for the appointment in a fashionable full skirt and coordinating jacket. Now that she saw where they were, where he lived, she was relieved she had made the effort. She smoothed her skirt and reapplied lipstick. “What time are we due for the appointment?”

“You,” Frank corrected her, “are due at noon.”

“So, what do we do for the next ten minutes? Do we sit here and wait? How does he know we’ve arrived?”